


There’s A Song Yet To Be Sung

by Duster6789



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, POV Sansa Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:48:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22684231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duster6789/pseuds/Duster6789
Summary: Sansa is still a romantic at heart and she notices everything.Sansa’s POV as an outsider noticing the relationship between her sister and the new Lord of Storm’s End.Arya and Gendry need to figure things out at their own pace.
Relationships: Arya Stark & Sansa Stark, Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Sansa Stark & Gendry Waters
Comments: 14
Kudos: 157





	1. Chapter 1

Sansa had drank a little. Mainly for appearances because the feast had been a celebration after all. A celebration of the victory of the Living over the Dead. Yet she felt she still had her wits about her which is why it startled her so much when she realised, only at the last moment, that she was being approached.

She turned to see her sister, Arya, and at first she felt relief that she was not under threat. Then she noticed something that she could swear she had never seen before and it chilled her to her core.

The whites of Arya’s eyes were red and her cheeks were covered in blotches. Sansa’s sister had been crying.

She had made it as far as the door to her chamber when her sister had appeared and so she wasted no time in inviting Arya into her room.

“Arya-“ she started, she was relieved to be interrupted because she had no idea what to say.

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

Arya was so vulnerable. It didn’t make any sense but Sansa tried to push the want for answers aside in favour of taking care of her sister for the first time in their lives. “Of course you can.”

Arya wasted no time in peeling off her jerkin and trousers and getting under the covers of Sansa’s bed in her shirt. Sansa had planned to look at some of her books but followed her sister’s behaviour and joined her in the pursuit of comfort.

The sisters got closer until Sansa found herself instinctively holding Arya and stroking her hair, desperately hoping that this was helping her and not making her want to cringe away.

Sansa had already decided that she would not ask questions. She would allow her sister to speak first. That always worked best with Arya who was known to be quite volatile.

“I have always missed Father and sometimes I miss the family life that we used to have as a whole. Tonight was the first time that I specifically missed Mother. The first time that I felt like I needed her,” Arya finally said once she had relaxed into their situation.

“You missed Mother and so you sought out me? The closest thing?”

“Yes, I hope that is flattering and not upsetting to you. You are so much like her in so many ways... but different. I feel like you understand me more than she ever did.”

“I know what you mean,” Sansa soothed her. There was a pause in which Sansa assumed that Arya would fill with why she needed their mother tonight of all nights, but the information must be too hard for her to part with, Sansa was going to have to ask. “What happened tonight? I didn’t see you at the feast.”

“I ate with the small folk outside. I wanted to be unnoticed.”

“I suppose that didn’t go to plan if you ended up crying?” It was a risky question. The last thing she wanted was for Arya to feel the need to run away from her room in search of solitude again.

“No, it didn’t,” Arya sighed away her sudden tension.

“Do you want to talk about what _did_ happen? Or do you just want to rest?”

Arya lifted her chin to look at her with gratitude. Then, as she rested her head, she sighed again. “The new Lord Baratheon asked me to be his wife. The Lady of Storm’s End.”

Sansa gave a nervous laugh. “Gracious- I have heard of new Lords acting impulsively before but- Gods. Asking for the hand of the Hero of Winterfell is the boldest move I have heard in any of the stories. How did he find you? How did he know what you looked like?”

“He knows me, Sansa, he knew the sorts of places where I would hide and he found me there. He just obviously doesn’t know me well enough.”

Sansa was shocked. Arya was defending the man and seemed disappointed in how he had acted. The sadness that had caused her tears was all over her face again. Sansa stroked her sister’s cheek in an attempt to comfort her, to simply let her know that she cared, and kissed her forehead. Just like their mother would have done. “Arya, do you love him?”

“I don’t really know how to love anymore. If I was ever going to love anyone, it would have been him.” Sansa felt her sister tense so suddenly, with every muscle in her body, that it was clear Arya was fighting her tears again.

“Let it out, Arya, you don’t have to be brave with me,” Sansa told her and the same moment Arya burst into gut wrenching floods of tears, clinging to Sansa like she were a child and Sansa were Catelyn Stark.

Sansa held her tightly, stroked her hair, soothed her for several moments until the hardest sobs started to subside. Her fears of upsetting her sister, and causing her to flee, had left her. Arya really needed Sansa in that moment. “Forgive me, Arya, but if you didn’t know how to love anymore then you wouldn’t be feeling such grief over him.”

Arya gasped, stopped crying suddenly and looked at Sansa with confusion in her eyes. It looked like the thought that Sansa had shared was a revelation to her. Arya’s eyes flicked around as Sansa watched her sister follow her own thoughts to a conclusion. When she relaxed and sighed again she gave the smallest of smiles before looking resigned and sad again.

“It doesn’t matter anyway. It was simpler when he was a smith. I will never be the Lady that he needs.”

“Who are we to say what he needs? You might be exactly the Lady that he wants.” Sansa couldn’t stop herself and she instantly regretted what she had said. Arya was feeling bad enough without Sansa telling her that she was wrong to refuse him. “I’m sorry, I suppose I still want romance in my heart. I know that, realistically, you wouldn’t want to be the Lady of all of the Stormlands. You could! You would be a wonderful leader! But you would be unhappy.”

Arya relaxed again and snuggled into her side. Sansa knew from experience that crying so hard could be exhausting. “I didn’t realise, all those years ago, that this is what having a sister should be like. A best friend that our parents provided for us.”

Arya could never know how her words affected Sansa at that moment. As a girl, Sansa had longed to be close to Arya but she was not interested. She had always preferred their brothers and the rejection had always led Sansa to be defensive with her.

Instead, Sansa adjusted herself slightly to get more comfortable and stroked Arya’s hair until she fell asleep. Arya had become quite beautiful and it was very apparent on her sleeping face. She was free from her troubles in that state, troubles that Sansa had always wished that she could have saved her from, but Arya had always been a survivor - there was no way that Sansa could save her from anything.


	2. Chapter 2

It was suggested by Jon and Ser Davos that Gendry, the new Lord Baratheon, stay with Sansa to learn the role. Sansa was worried that she agreed a little too readily at the opportunity to get to know the man who could win the heart of her little sister. A sister who had no interest in romance as a youngster, and showed even less of any emotion as an adult, but yet had fallen in love regardless. Seemingly against her own will. Sansa had to meet him.

He was surly and difficult to get along with. He was not free with conversation or friendly in any way. He was definitely handsome but Sansa struggled to see what else Arya saw in him. It seemed fitting that Arya would go for a man who was not the obvious choice for a Lady. She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt since he had just had his heart broken.

Gendry was more than proficient with picking up the practicalities of running a castle. In the immediate after effects of the battle, it was rebuilding that had to be the priority and so it was this that Gendry and Sansa worked on for several days before she took him to the study to learn about sigils and the numerous holdfasts where the families lived. Gendry was also surprisingly good at these things because he had worked in King’s Landing engraving sigils into armour and weaponry and he picked up matching them to the houses quickly. Even if he was more than a little apathetic towards the task and Sansa’s patience was wearing thin.

After a few days of that they met to discuss the ledgers, stores and budgeting. “May I ask how much you have learned about letters and numbers?” She asked simply. She had learned that he was surly, and so expected that he would be proud as well, when he did not respond angrily Sansa was pleasantly surprised.

“I know numbers well enough. I worked on the Street of Steel and I learned about money and change. My master showed me how to log a sale in the ledger and how to balance at the end of the day. Letters... not really so much. I know the shapes of each letter for engraving but not what they mean or how to read,” by the end of Gendry’s explanation, Sansa realised that she had learned more about him in those few seconds than she had in the days so far. She also realised that the anger she had expected was lacking, not due to a lack of pride, but because his mood was remarkably forlorn on this particular day. He looked as though he could be brought to tears.

“I see, well I shall ask the maester to work through reading and writing with you - if you don’t mind putting in some extra time. I was going to go through ledgers today anyway so we might as well continue with that.” She gave him a sympathetic smile and he returned it. Very quickly, Sansa was changing her opinion of the man in front of her.

After a number of hours, Gendry had fully grasped the ledgers and had willingly taken on board her advice regarding budgeting and where to store things so that they are less likely to spoil. The mood was much lighter than it had been in the morning and so Sansa invited him to dine with her. For the first time, the conversation flowed and it emboldened Sansa.

“I want you to know that I have the utmost respect for you. You have shown that you have all of the necessary practical skills to be a wonderful Lord,” Sansa paused to notice a wince on Gendry’s face. “So please forgive when I say this, but there are certain things that you have not experienced, through no fault of your own, simply by growing up around tradesmen instead of in a castle.” Gendry opened his mouth to respond and Sansa raised her hand to silence him, “I do have a solution. I know a girl who grew up in the service of House Royce. She knows how to behave in the presence of nobility and I believe that she would help you.”

“Thank you, Lady Stark, but I believe I won’t have a say in who I wed-“

“I am not suggesting that you wed her. She would help you willingly because she is your sister.”

“My sister?” Gendry asked with the most hopeful expression that Sansa had seen on his face since they had met. “I always wanted a family.”

Sansa felt suddenly heartbroken for the man. “Her name is Mya Stone. A bastard of The Vale. She shares your father, as I am sure you can deduce. Would you like me to write to her?”

“Please. If she says no, I will be no worse off than I am now.”

“The last time I saw her, she seemed keen for a change of scenery. She had fallen in love with a knight but he was forced to wed someone else in order to form an alliance with another House.”

Gendry gave a deep sigh a muttered something that Sansa did not quite hear. She could only assume it was related to Arya. “I was hoping that we would become friends during our time together. Our fathers were the closest of friends and so an alliance between our houses seemed important. Of course, you being here to fight for the North speaks volumes in itself, I do believe that a friendship between us would be what my father would want,” she could have stopped there, but she was just too curious, “and also it would be what my sister would want.”

At that, Gendry’s eyes snapped to hers and he sat agape with a flush speeding across his face, “what did she tell you?”

“It isn’t necessarily what she told me, it is more that she was heartbroken in a way that I have never seen her. She said without words that you are the most important person, besides her own family, that she has ever let into her heart.”

The tears that threatened to appear that morning filled his eyes and he angrily blinked them away. His sadness was showing itself in the form of a fury that was notably perfectly fitting for a Baratheon.

“Thank you for inviting me tonight. I have to go.” He was more flustered than rude when he spoke although there was no denying the curt message. 

Sansa was left hoping that she had not ruined her friendship so early in it’s growth.

———

When Sansa entered the morning room to break her fast she was relieved to find Gendry sitting there. He had no food in front of him, he appeared to simply be waiting.

“Lady Sansa,” he said, thankfully with a smile. He looked a little worked up and so Sansa quickly made a small selection of foods from the buffet and sat opposite him. “I must apologise for how I left last night.”

“There is no need-“ she started, but Gendry raised his hand to silence her. She was impressed that he had picked up and used the technique so quickly, and so she complied.

“I know that I have not been on my best behaviour and you have been more patient with me than I thought you would be. I understand now that you were so nice to me because you believe that your sister loves me,” his last words faltered but she nodded to encourage him. “I know that is not true and I have struggled to be here since she left and I just want to thank you... for giving me a chance despite my... mood.”

“You have been a good student. And I have absolutely no doubt about my sister’s feelings,” Sansa was tired of sparing his feelings, she was going to say things exactly as she saw them. “Arya had never sought me out for comfort in our youth, and she went to great pains to tell me how little she feels when she came back here in adulthood. She threatened me. Braavos changed her. Yet, a few days with you and emotions are pouring out of her like she’s a child again. I don’t even know how she knows you, she just said that you knew her and you knew how to find her... and that you asked her to be your wife.”

Gendry took a deep sigh but did not break eye contact with her. “I didn’t know she had been to Braavos but I assume that is where she got her scars.” For a moment Gendry and Sansa shared a look of confusion, “she has her secrets and she clearly wants to keep them. They are not relevant now anyway.”

He looked at the floor, he was allowing himself to feel sad and not reacting with the rage she saw yesterday. He continued, “I think she has gone to kill the Queen. For her part in the death of your father. She will not survive if she is caught for the crime of regicide.”

Sansa felt compelled to reply, “she might not get caught. She has... skills. She did kill the Night King after all.”

She could tell by his face that he was not reassured. “I have thought of that. I just can’t see how it will end well... I wanted to go after her but she would have done it anyway and hated me for my interference,” he was lost in sadness now. All Sansa could do was watch him, helpless. She had had similar thoughts when she heard that Arya had left and came to the same conclusion.

“When we were younger, just children really, she asked me to come and smith for the Starks,” he finally said, snapping Sansa out of her own thoughts of concern for her sister. “Not because she thought I was brilliant at my job, she just... wanted me around. I had never been offered a place in someone’s life like that but... I knew that realistically it wouldn’t be that way... so I said no. I stayed with The Brotherhood because I wanted to help their cause and be in control of my own life. They made me a knight,” he laughed, “I was so naive that I thought a hedge knight was the same as a real knight. It doesn’t come with respect when you are an outlaw and nobody is supposed to know who you are.”

He disappeared into his thoughts again, it looked like he was trying to decide to share more information with her. “When I think about it, I did the same thing but the other way around. I wanted her around so I asked her to be with me. To be my wife. Knowing her, she would see that as her being in my service... even if I didn’t see it that way... and she has to put herself first... after everything she has experienced... even just the things that we know about.”

Sansa studied his face as it flickered between emotions. He was right, she didn’t have to know everything that Arya had done to understand that she was doing what she had set her mind to years ago. She understood completely why Arya loved Gendry and it was very evident that he loved her in return - more powerfully than she had any evidence to understand but she knew that there was more to their story than was being told.

Sansa suddenly took note of everything that the man in front of her had been saying. He was not comfortable in Winterfell. He was thanking her. He was pouring his heart out. “Lord Gendry, why do I get the impression that you are trying to say your goodbyes?”

He looked up at her from the floor and smiled, looking pleased that he didn’t have to explain. “I can’t start living the new life that I was given if I am here. I can’t move on. I want to start helping people, being busy, feeling useful. I plan on sailing from White Harbor to Runestone, would you mind writing ahead of me to explain to Mya that I want to meet her? Perhaps you could vouch for me as well?”

“Of course I will write to her,” she told him with a hearty smile, “you have remembered your castles of The Vale well, Lord Baratheon, you have learned everything that I can teach you. I wish you well. Please keep in touch,” she told him as she stood and he followed suit. He smiled at her fondly before he moved towards the door.

She only hoped that he considered her as a friend in the way that she thought of him.


	3. Chapter 3

Sansa thought back to when she was fourteen years old. She was in the worst danger of her life but her husband protected her from the lions that surrounded her. Sansa did not understand it back then but she did love Tyrion Lannister. Through gratitude if nothing else but it was real.

The funny thing was that Sansa had been a hopeless romantic before that, but all of her hopes were savagely taken from her, and so she didn’t even see it happening when it was real.

It was the same again this time around. Tyrion had been visiting for diplomatic reasons, he would normally stay for longer than planned because they simply enjoyed each other’s company and then one day she realised that she missed him every time he left. There had been tender moments when she would notice a sparkle in his eyes, or he would preempt her next move and act before she could, he cared for her like nobody else. They had been courting and she had not noticed. As a queen, she knew that she outranked him and so she asked for his hand in marriage and his face looked like it would split in half with happiness.

The arrangements were made and the wedding was set for a fortnight’s time. Jon was coming down from the Wall, Bran was leaving Ser Davos in charge of the Six Kingdoms and all of the Northern Lords were attending. Tyrion had no family to invite but he had grown close to Lord Gendry Baratheon since he had joined the Small Council as Master of Coin and Sansa had no objections to him being Tyrion’s only guest. Sansa was fond of Gendry. They had stayed in touch since he left Winterfell for the Stormlands, she also heard from Mya and was grateful to have friends at a time when her family were dispersed again.

The guest that Sansa was not expecting was the one who arrived before anybody else. Arya did not look much different, but her features were more relaxed, she looked more comfortable in her own skin, with her own face. Arya had always wanted to be a different person and no one at the same time. She always looked like someone who was ready to run away in an instant. Never content. In a similar way to when Sansa saw Arya sleeping, she noticed that this woman standing before her was the most beautiful version of her sister that she had seen yet.

“Your Grace,” Arya announced and gave a mock curtsy.

“Lady Stark,” she responded before grinning and running to her sister to pull her into a tight hug. “I wasn’t sure if I would ever see you again.”

“All I needed was some space and some time. I’m here to stay now. If you’ll have me,” Arya’s voice was warm and kind. It made Sansa think, again, of the night that Arya came to her for comfort. She had said that having a sister was like a best friend that their parents gave to them like a gift. She felt that in that moment.

“You can be Head of my Queensguard, my Hand or whatever you want to be. Winterfell is your home. I will always want you here.”

“Even when you and your husband start to make a life together?” Arya asked while grinning.

“My husband would be more than happy to have you around,” Sansa returned her glee.

“Sansa Stark, Queen in the North, finally marrying for love.”

———

The wedding came around much faster than felt natural. Her excitement to start her future combined with the feeling of reconnecting with her sister had made the time fly.

Lord Baratheon arrived three days before the wedding. Sansa had not written to warn him of Arya being there because he was likely to already be travelling by the Kings Road. He had not married but nobody pressured him anymore. Mya Baratheon had married a man who Gendry knighted named Anguy. He was an old friend of Gendry and the match had apparently just fallen into place naturally. Gendry was a devoted uncle to their children and so the Baratheon line was secured again. Sansa seated Arya next to Gendry at supper as she saw no point in delaying the inevitable. Not too long ago, Sansa knew, Arya was likely to not come. She would have found a way to avoid the situation altogether but the Arya that had come home was different. She would definitely be there.

Sansa could not hear their conversation from where she sat but watching them interact was plenty for her. The initial shock of the sight of each other gave way the moment that Gendry said something warm to her. She could tell that he delivered it in such a way by the way he tilted his head as he looked at her. Arya’s face spread into a smile and Gendry copied her. It was almost as though a mirror was held between them because their every movement and expression matched in every way. Once they were in their trance, nobody else in the room existed but each other.

Sansa was not surprised in the least by how easily they fell into such behaviour. Gendry had described a powerful and unconditional love between them when he had last been in Winterfell. He had not used those words but Sansa knew it to be true. When feelings like that exist between two people you either choose to love or to hate. Indifference is not an option.

Sansa amused herself in imagining the last time they were reunited in Winterfell before the battle. She imagined Arya trying to be cold towards him, she imagined how long it had taken for the bravado to shatter and she had smiled and laughed with him as she was doing now. Sansa would bet it had only taken seconds, even then.

Sansa thought, again, of when she was fourteen years old. Marrying Tyrion Lannister under duress but learning to love without knowing it to be true. Somewhere Arya was in the company of a young Lord Baratheon, possibly learning the same thing.

Sansa peeled her eyes from watching her sister in an attempt to make conversation with her betrothed at her side. Something in her chest nearly burst with hope that the Stark Pack was not only surviving... but really living.


End file.
